


Republic of Glass

by anzallamar



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Florence - Freeform, Gen, Genua, Rome - Freeform, a few select drops of Isu bullshit, are you interested in corrupt banking practices from the XV century?, assassins' creed recruits, do you like extreme plotting in cutthroat aristocratic Republics?, eventual Ezio and Machiavelli cameos, i just love the Brotherhood recruits okay, then do I have the fic for you, this is me indulging my compulsive Renaissance habit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27979623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anzallamar/pseuds/anzallamar
Summary: Genoa, 1488. While the Templars control the city, and the Mediterranean, through the Bank of St. George, the Assassins try to maintain a foothold in what is the biggest port to the Oltremare kingdoms and the Levantine Brotherhood. Two recruits prove their mettle in a city where everything, and everyone, can be bought.Modern day. Two Initiates must sift through the lives of their predecessors, in the hope of glimpsing what secret lies beneath the Cathedral. Do their stories resemble their past counterparts?
Kudos: 2





	1. session one

HEPHAESTUS IM NETWORK

INSERT LOGIN

…

…

LOGGING IN

…

…

  
LOGON SUCCESSFUL.

WELCOME, INITIATE

* * *

**xXx_black_currant_xXx** : sup?

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx:** anyone on the net?

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx** : wakey wakeyyyyy

° specops ° has logged on

**xXx_black_currant_xXx** : well well!

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx:** WAKEEEEYYYYYYYYY

**° specops ° :** oh for the love of Christ

 **° specops ° :** i was supposed to finally graduate to fieldwork this time

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** ahahhaha

**° specops ° :** and i get this instead

 **° specops ° :** with YOU

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** why u be like that tho

_ professor _ has logged on

**xXx_black_currant_xXx** : we will have FUN

**° specops ° :** i want to break Templar kneecaps not trudge through 100s of hours of oldtimey people doing stuff in the hope of glimpsing some Isu bullshit

 **° specops ° :** do you know how much weird fuckery happens that does not even come _close_ to an actual Isu

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** well but that’s the best part !

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx:** lol Isu

**_ professor _** : Hello, children

 **_ professor _ :** I hope this session finds you well.

 **_ professor _ :** On behalf of our organization, I extend my well-wishes and congratulate you for reaching Initiate rank

 **_ professor _ :** Your effort and input is most valued and appreciated in these trying times

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** uh, thanks

**_ professor _ :** Let me waste no more time in introducing you to our assignment

_ professor _ has sent (1) file. Accept?

File transfer initiated...

File transfer concluded

**_ professor _ :** We will be analyzing through a cache of data recently isolated from the Abstergo Helix database. I just sent you the briefing.

 **_ professor _ :** We are expecting leads to a a Precursor artifact. We will sift the genetic data to identify any qualified information which may lead us to advantage in current times.

**°specops° :** great, homework

**_ professor _ :** Please familiarize yourself with the setting before our next session.

 **_ professor _ :** Especially you, @ specops

**xXx_black_currant_xXx** (privately): ahahahhaha busted :P

**_ professor _ :** Let me once more state how little our resources are, and how much each individual’s effort is _worth_ in the fight against the Order.

**° specops °:** okay

**Xx_black_currant_xXx** (privately): dude she sounds like a pain in the ass my condolences

**_ professor _** : I will schedule another session shortly. By then, I will have confirmation of the logistics of our mission.

 **_ professor _** : Please be well.

_ professor _ has logged out

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** dude

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx:** cold open, _coldest_ closing

**° specops °:** well what did you expect

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** just because were involved in a millenia old conspiracy you dont have to sound like youre already dead

**° specops °:** christ but I do wish I had your gall

 **° specops °:** or stupidity

 **° specops °:** please remind me again just how is it possible that you have a doctorate

 **° specops °:** the state of our higher education system is appalling

**xXx_black_currant_xXx:** <:^P

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx** : anyway, texting you soon as soon as ive looked over the briefs

 **xXx_black_currant_xXx:** night night!

xXx_black_currant_xXx has logged out

**° specops °:** wait

 **° specops °:** oh well

° specops ° has logged out.


	2. SEQUENCE 1

WELCOME TO THE ANIMUS.

SELECT MEMORY…

MEMORY SELECTED…

DNA SEQUENCING INITIATED …

**SEQUENCE 1**

**GENUA, 1481**

**IGNORANCE IS BLISS**

* * *

[You are in LA GOLA DEL DRAGO, a dockside tavern of little repute. You are GIOVANNI MIGLIORE, a student of very little fame and, it seems, even _little_ _r_ fortune. Earlier in the day you have failed your admission exam to the GENOESE COLLEGE OF JURORS, thus making your expensive years of study in the Bologna _studium_ the first fruitless investment that your father, BERNARDO MIGLIORE detto IL MIGLIORE, has made in his longstanding career as a merchant and profiteer.]

[It is not your fault. It is known that one must bribe and lobby the COLLEGE in order to be admitted, since admission gives access to the elite circle of aristocracy that rules the REPUBLIC OF GENOA.]

[Of course, you also know that your father took care of this, as he does with everything concerning a business venture. Yet, you failed. You choose to believe in the unscrutable HAND OF FATE, because the alternative is that you had your admission bought for you in your pocket, and you still managed to impress such a SPECTACULAR DISPLAY OF INCOMPETENCE upon the examining commission that, probably, messengers are already on the way to your father’s FONDACO to return the bribes.]

[You cannot go home.]

[DRINK?]

[You drink. Your blood alcohol levels rise.]

[On your left side, a SERVANT approaches. You cannot focus, but you notice her apron has some stain which is probably best not to dwell upon.]

[The SERVANT wipes down the table around you, and leaves.]

[There is now a you-shaped patch of dirt on the surface. This is exactly how you feel.]

[DRINK?]

[You decide not to drink again.]

[LEAVE?]

[You get up. The tavern walls seem to have treacherously switched with the ceiling. You realize the SERVANT is now propping you up because you almost planted face-first onto the floor.]

“ _Messere_ , are you alright? Mess- oh, _merda_ ”

[You step over your vomit, tentatively reach the door, and EXIT. Bent over, you look over the puddles in the street. There is probably a point where you still had some dignity, but it has long past. You realize that you need to step up and figure out what to do next, but your brain feels like soggy wool.]

“ _Messere_ , your purse. Messere?”

[There is a man in front of you: you see boots of good leather, and the hem of grey robes. A SHEATH hangs by his left, silver buckle with ornate design – you have seen similar in the goods your father brought over from Galata. Oh God, not _Father-_ ]

[You reach over for your purse. It still holds your money]

“Messere, you look like a man spun low by monstrous Fate.”

[You groan. He laughs a little. He is not your father.]

“May I offer some assistance? I have a place in a friendly house not too far from here. You may rest, and collect your thoughts, and perhaps find a way to regain what is yours?”

[This is how people get robbed and murdered, you realize. Or murdered and robbed. Still, if this man was going to gut you, he would not put so much effort in removing you from the street to do so, not with the Port so close and accidents happening all the time on the docks. And you do not know what to do, and you feel very tired.]

[GO WITH HIM?]

[You figure you can always get murdered later.]

[WALK?]

[You grasp the stranger’s arm. It is very thick – feels like a leather guard, like some sort of armour.]

“There now, steady. Forgive me, lean onto my other arm, you see - I have a … contraption, there, which I fear may harm you by mistake. Come, we will have to go a little further. Can you walk?”

[WALK?]

“I am Siviero, of Lombardy, messer Migliore.”

[You babble your name – did he say your name? Had you already said it yourself? Did Father send him?]

“No, I have had not had the pleasure of meeting him.”

[JOKE?]

[Nobody does - meeting Father is rarely a pleasure. He chuckles.]

“Actually, I was hoping to speak with you, Giovanni. There is a proposition I would like to make, and friends, if you would like to meet them.”

[You are steadier on your feet now, and your brain is working a little faster. It seems he wants you to join his _maona_ – a business venture overseas – thinking he can leverage Father’s contacts and capital. He probably does not know you are barred from both. Still, such things are usually talked over dinner, which is what you need now, and your instinct is not giving off any warning bells.]

[GO WITH HIM?]

“Believe me when I say you will not regret your choice, _messer_ Giovanni.”

SEQUENCE ENDED .

* * *

…

  
LOADING DATA FRAGMENT

…

FRAGMENT LOADED.

DNA SEQUENCING INITIATED …

SEQUENCE STARTING

…

**FLORENCE, 1481**

* * *

[You are OTTAVIA degli INNOCENTI, a GIRL and a SERVANT in the ROSA COLTA, a house of ill repute but excellent manners in FLORENCE. It is night.]

[You have served your mistress, madonna PAOLA BELLINI, for seven years, ever since you were sent here from the SPEDALE degli INNOCENTI, the founding hospital in Florence, to receive an education so that you may, one day, decide to become a nun, marry, or take up the oldest trade.]

[Over the years, it has become clear that the nuns may have misjudged your teacher, for while you have certainly received an _education_ , as it were, you have since realized that it would not be conductive to any of those fates the good nuns had imagined.]

[It’s not because the _Rosa Colta_ is a brothel! That doesn’t signify. In fact, the girls at the _Rosa_ have become your family, and you love _Madonna_ with all your heart: they have fed you, nurtured you, and loved you for _years_. They are all good people, and you do not care for the sermons of the Dominican friars when they say that whores will go to Hell to repent their sins.]

[Many Dominican friars also visit the brothel. You find this duplicity annoying.]

[It’s just that you have since discovered that madonna Paola deals in more than flesh, is all, and that luckily, finally, you might have found a place that suits you.]

[You were never _liked_ at the Spedale. You suppose no one really likes the cast-off children, but you were especially not a favourite of the nuns. It mostly had to do with you being unruly, discordant, and just plain _strange_ , as they said.]

[Although you have learned not to speak of the golden lines with others, it was harder to hide your gift when you were very little, and you just seemed to know where stuff had been hidden, or where the nurses had gone, and when they were about to return. You spent a lot of time kneeling on chickpeas for not being able to explain shenanigans; after a while, when there was trouble, the nuns just _assumed_ you had to be it.]

[So when it was time for your class of orphan girls to be chosen for apprenticeships, no one protested when the nuns sent you to the _Rosa_. Good girls go on to become cooks, seamstresses, or maids, while bad girls get to become _honest women_. The nuns assumed a madam would be less likely to complain about her charge.]

[But they were wrong. Madonna Paola _picked_ you! She trusted in _you_ , and you will repay her with your own life if it should ever come to that, gladly.]

[It is now nearly time for you to choose your next step in life, and start to repay your benefactors. You hope you will do much to give back what it took to raise you; you only desire is to make Paola proud.]

“Ottavia, my child. I need a moment of your assistance.”

[You jump to your feet and quickly make your way down the stairs to Madonna. She is at the entrance, speaking with someone clad in grey robes. Hushed tones of warning; cloaks, urgency, and rain; for a moment, it is just like that night when Madonna’ friend and his family were murdered.]

[You do not like to remember that night.]

“Ottavia, Siviero has returned from his journeys with a friend. Would you please see that this young man is shown the courtesy of our house while he and I speak?”

[Smiles are exchanged. There is also a boy. You suppose you recognize the sort: noble, young, stupid; nice clothes, head empty. However, this one looks like something the cat dragged in. You also see a faint golden line trailing behind him through the door, but do not yet see where it leads in front.]

[This is good. When bad shit goes down, the lines are much clearer and thicker, like with the Auditore boy.]

[COURTSY?]

“Thank you, dear. Siviero, this way.”

[While Madonna takes her guest to the private parlour, you will have to manage the newcomer. He is drenched from the rain.]

[TAKE CLOAK?]

“Uh, I don’t- I mean, I’m not usually opposed to what you excellent women do here, but I’m just not feeling myself right now, kind sister; please allow me to thank you and rest assured that I, Giovanni Migliore, remain your servant in any other occasion.”

[You can’t believe this idiot really thought you were going to move from cloak to undergarments. _Santi del cielo_ , he must be a virgin.]

[You remind him that this house does not usually deal in free affection, but luckily for him, Madonna’s generosity means that he will have hot soup and wine while his master deals in business.]

“Oh, pardon me. Please, then, show me your soup. I have read many wonderful things about soups in Florence. _Ribollita_ , yes?”

[You show him to the kitchen. It is late hours for whores, which means that is is nearly morning and the house is asleep, and empty of customers. You prepare a meal.]

“Actually I have read a lot of things, none of them the least useful, I guess, for all the good they have done me. Law, medicine, history, philosophy, teology…”

[Lord help you, one of those _university students_.]

“But none of them stuck. At least I’m good at cards and knife-throwing, but not good enough for the college in Genua I think. Do you know if there is a guild of knife-throwers in Florence, madonna? I

may try my luck here. But there’s probably better hands than mine: it’s all about the flick of the wrist -”

[It is clear he is perfectly able to keep the conversation going all by himself. You nod.]

“I think I should go into trade. Do you have a trade to recommend? I will take all counsel as I myself have none.”

[You set down the bowl in front of him. His face reflects in the soup; he’s not much older than you, and handsome enough when he is not talking. You wonder what he is doing here, and what is keeping Madonna Paola. The last time you were woken up by sudden visitors, and took in a refugee, there was blood in the streets.]

[You feel the weight of your _stiletto_.]

[ASK?]

“Ah well, my fair assistant. You see, I had a reversal of fortune and decided forge my own path outside the grasp of cruel Fate, as heroes do.” [He has started on the soup; this seems the only thing to make him keep quiet] “I am eager to find out where this new road takes me.”

[It is clear he has no idea where he has ended up, and of the company he is in. Poor bastard.]

[It’s probably the books, you think. Too many books rot your brain, it is evident; you’re almost relieved that reading is so difficult for you or you could have ended up like this.]

“But I have no manners! I have forgotten to ask whose gracious hand provided this life-saving drought.”

[You tell him this is the house of Madonna Paola Bellini, but he presses on, and you realize he is asking about you. He’s a little difficult to follow when he uses all those long words, and you don’t often hear the Genoese accent.]

[TELL HIM YOUR NAME?]

“Madonna Ottavia, my thanks. You are one of the first few felicitous things I have experienced recently.”

[He smiles. You feel a little strange inside. You will hate yourself for this later, because thankfully, you can feel Madonna approaching, so you have no time to do so now.]

“Messer Migliore, I see my dear child has welcomed you into my house. My name is Paola, and on behalf of the Rosa Colta, I extend my invitation to rest for as long as you need. This house is a place of peace: make use of that.”

“Madonna, m-my thanks go to you and your daughter-”

[Daughter! Imagine that! He really is an idiot.]

“-for assisting a fugitive.”

“Do not worry. Siviero has told me a little about yourself, but I trust there will be time to become better friends soon.”

[Ah, he’s red as a beet. Talks big, but he’s still a pup. Many gentlemen and worthy _signori_ have been smitten by Madonna’s smile, he stands no chance. She was even in a painting! You saw it once when you brought a message to the _palazzo_. Look, here comes the stranger.]

“Friends, or _brothers_ maybe, eh?”

[The pup makes a small bow to that.]

“Maybe that.”

“Siviero, do you mean - ?”

“We’ll see, Paola.”

[You can see Madonna is interested. You realize now the pup’s stay in the house will be longer than you imagined. The stranger looks at you now; you practice the sort of placid expression that makes men look away, but it doesn’t work.]

“And this?”

“My girl, Ottavia, my promising student. Perhaps it is good you came here; she can help yours setting in.”

[Nods are exchanged. The pup looks at you expenctingly.]

[Oh, _merda_.]

* * *

SEQUENCE ENDED .

DOWNLOADING DATA …

LOGGING OUT.

GOODBYE.


End file.
